


Wedding Present

by itzteegan



Series: Kinktober 2020 [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Lingerie, Married Couple, Married Sex, Original Character(s), Original POC Character, POC OC, Penis In Vagina Sex, PoC character, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: While their wedding night won't be their first time, Lira Cousland makes sure it will still be special nonetheless.
Relationships: Alistair/Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949518
Kudos: 25





	Wedding Present

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 11: Lingerie

Closing the door behind us, it latched with a satisfying click, my new husband deepening our kiss as he gently pushed me against the immaculately lacquered wood. Wincing slightly as the uncompromising metal of his Kingly regalia pressed into me a little too hard, I suggested, “Alistair, perhaps you should take off your breastplate?”

His lips soothed over mine as he backed off just a little, enough so that it was no longer uncomfortable, as he murmured his apology. “I’m sorry, _My Queen_ , I shall endevour not to bruise you on our wedding night.”

Chuckling softly, I amended, “At least not in that way, though I can’t say I wouldn’t be disappointed to be littered in them come morning.”

And oh there it was, that lovely blush that was part of the whole reason I fell head over heels for him in the first place. It wasn’t as deep as it would have been had I told him such a thing in the beginning of our relationship, granted, but it was still there all the same and I loved it. Instead of that adorable stutter, however, his tone was smooth and low as he simply replied, “Then whatever My Queen desires, My Queen shall have.”

Giving him one last kiss before pushing against him ever so slightly to encourage him backwards, I purred, “Before we get too carried away in the doorway, perhaps I should show _My King_ his wedding present?”

Alistair blushed still, but his one eyebrow crooked upwards in curiousity as he stepped back, one hand clasping mine as he beckoned us deeper into the expansive bedroom. “By all means.”

After seating him at the foot of the bed, facing the fireplace, I reached up to start tugging at the laces that held the bodice of my dress together, my brow furrowing as I momentarily hit a snag. “No, I do not require assistance,” I told him, seeing the cheeky question dancing on the tip of his tongue as he shot me a smirk. He relented and took the opportunity to rid himself of the armour part of his robes as he sat there, watching as I unwound myself from the wedding finery, his eyes dancing as they never moved once from my figure. I figured the Chantry sisters would have loved to have such rapt attention from him during his time there, but I supposed the subject matter just wasn’t as interesting. Chuckling lightly, I couldn’t help a creeping blush of my own as I untied the last of the laces and ribbons and strings holding my dress to my body, knowing what laid underneath. A little silly, perhaps. Really, more than a little silly, considering we’d well consummated our relationship, seen each other’s bodies in all kinds of situations – both romantic and non – but at the thought of Alistair finally seeing what I’d specially commissioned still set my heart a flutter. I had wanted to make our wedding night special in some way, and it had only taken a few well-placed whispers before I was pointed in the direction of an Antivan designer who had fawned over the idea of his piece being worn by the new Queen of Ferelden on her wedding day.

It certainly seemed to have its intended affect as I allowed my dress to drop and pool around my feet, exposing the red lace and silk, and I don’t think I’d ever seen Alistair’s jaw drop quite that much. He was stock still for a moment, back rigid, eyes darting over every inch of me like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to look at first. “Lira,” was the only thing he could say at first, breathing my name as he visibly grappled with words, mouth opening and closing a few times. As his eyes met him, that familiar, sassy smile crossed his face as he went with, “Oh I am a lucky, lucky man.”

Crossing the small space between us in a few steps, I straddled his lap and leaned down to kiss him, the action soon turning feverish as I felt his hands on me, one outside as it felt the crimson silk, the other underneath as it felt the smooth, darker skin that it covered. I soon felt a bulge underneath me, and I bucked against it, sighing as I yearned to have him inside me once more. But patience. For once, we were in no rush. This was no hurried coupling in the woods or quiet union in our tent (well, as quiet as we could be, though I didn’t wonder if Zevran merely guessed and just kept digging when he hit pay dirt). No, we had a quiet sanctuary for once, and we would be undisturbed for the remainder of the night, as was expected on a wedding night. As such, Alistair returned the action, moaning beneath my lips as he held me tighter, no bulky metal between us this time. With his outer hand, he reached up to cup the nape of my neck, holding me firmly in place as his tongue plundered my mouth. While Alistair was the type to need a little nudge in the right direction, once aimed appropriately, he took charge. He might have preferred to be led in some things, but in our time together, with experience, he’d found that he loved taking over once I handed him the reins.

And I loved it. Almost as much as I loved him.

Rocking against me, he brushed against the sensitive nub, our bodies separated only by the material of his trousers and smalls, and nothing else. His other arm, nestled underneath the negligee, encircled my waist, holding me so that even if I had wanted to move, I couldn’t. That little edge of control he held thrilled me as he continued to grind against me, leaving me whimpering and whining as I grew slick in need.

He couldn’t hold out forever, though, eventually parting and shuffling me off of his lap so he could stand and remove his own clothes. I took that opportunity to shake my coiled hair loose of the pins that held it up, but when I reached for the hem of my special silken garments, he grabbed my wrist. “Leave it,” he intoned, his voice dropping just a hair as that authority and command of a warrior and a King bled through. Brushing his lips against my ear, he whispered, “I want to ravish you while you wear it.”

I just barely bit back a moan and as he bent over to take off his boots and shimmy out of his trousers and smallclothes, I scooted up further on the bed, sprawling across it as I waited, giving him the best heated come hither look I could manage with the anticipation racing through my veins. Whether I was successful or not, it seemed the intended affect was reached as he crawled up the bed after me, embracing me in a fiery, passionate kiss that threatened to consume me then and there. His fingers wandered, sweeping underneath the silk and between my legs, pausing only for a moment as he realised, “No smalls?” A soft chuckle as his teeth scraped against my neck. “What a naughty, naughty minx I have for a wife.” Sealing his lips over my pulse point, he pushed a finger into me as he pressed the heel of his hand against my sensitive bud. He soon had me bucking against him as I let out a shaky moan, his name slipping out in two separate breaths. Alistair hummed in approval, slipping another digit inside me as reward, my head flopping back further into the pillow as I closed my eyes. By the time he finally stopped playing around and moved to sheath himself, I was a shaking, moaning mess, clinging to him as he slowly seated himself within me.

With naught but silk and lace between us, he began to move, his fingers travelling up my sides, reveling in the feel of the rich fabrics as he cupped a breast with one hand and planted the other under my waist, holding me ever close as he angled his thrusts. My back arched and I could feel his smile against my cheek as his action had the intended affect. His confidence now was quite the contrast to our first tumble, late at night, in my darkened tent. My own experience had just barely outpaced his, having had a couple of bouts with Ser Gilmore, but nothing more than that. With Alistair, however, it was different. Gilmore had been far more versed in the ways of making love, but Ali’s awkwardness was endearing no matter what the circumstances, it seemed. I had ridden him for his first time, bracing myself against his broad chest as I swirled my hips in what I’d hoped was pleasurable for him as well as me. I’d downright chuckled when he’d timidly asked if he could feel my breast … he was inside me, I’d thought us well past that point, but I’d simply grabbed his hand and settled it over the destination he wished, giving it a squeeze to encourage him further. Our next bout, he’d actually worked up the nerve to reach up and suckle as he bucked his hips beneath me, meeting my rhythm and complementing it. Our bodies knew the song, knew the motions, and once we could both let go, we sank into the pleasures that could be found in each other.

He pulled a gasping whine from my throat as he ground against me on the down stroke, catching my sensitive nub against his own pelvis, a thrill of need shooting through me. The hand that clutched at my breast squeezed lightly, his fingers running over where he knew my nipple strained against the lace. While we knew we had the time and space to partake in each other however we wished, this was quickly becoming a fast, rough coupling, our desperation for each other overcoming the circumstances. After all, we’d endured being apart for months for the sake of decorum, only able to indulge in hurried kisses and glances full of longing and want. And this whole wedding day had seemed to drag on forever, even though we’d agreed to leave as soon as we could properly leave and not have anyone miffed, and it had only made the hunger between us grow.

Plunging into me at a fast, hardy pace, Alistair seemed intent on driving us both through the mattress with his motions. But I was not one to protest, especially not when my orgasm was just on the horizon, and I whined and keened in need. Alistair knew well what I needed, what he could do to speed it along and push me over the edge, and with a few well placed strokes as he bit and suckled on my neck, I came with a shout, clutching him close to me as he rode out the waves, groaning as he trembled and eventually spilled within me, himself.

Collapsing beside me, he pulled me close to him, errant fingers stroking through my hair and down my arm before settling at my waist, the red silk still resting there. Bestowing my forehead with a kiss, he said with a cheeky tone to his voice, “So, can I expect My Queen to wear similar things under her dresses from now on, or was this a one time deal?”

As I looked up at him, eyes smouldering with passion still to spend during the night to come, I purred, “Is that an order, My King?”

A flash of hunger and desire swept through his eyes as he replied, voice deep and low, “If you would like to consider it one, be my guest.”

Better safe than sorry. I would contact the Antivan designer immediately, come morn. But for now, I still had the rest of my wedding night to contend with, and between our youth and our Grey Warden stamina, it was far from over.


End file.
